


my head was warm, my skin was soaked (i called your name till the fever broke)

by ghoulfriends (smolstiel)



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Beaches, Gen, Ghost Shane Madej, M/M, Rusalka (Water Spirit), Sirens, no actual drowning occurs, tw for the threat of drowning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 11:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30054435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolstiel/pseuds/ghoulfriends
Summary: “No siren did ever so charm the ear of the listener as the listening ear has charmed the soul of the siren.” - Henry TaylorRyan meets someone at nightfall.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara & Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14
Collections: The Shyan Shipping Society Stories





	my head was warm, my skin was soaked (i called your name till the fever broke)

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fill for the shyan shipping society’s daily prompt challenge. 
> 
> “Write about Shane and Ryan in the water! Are they sea folk? Pirates? Lighthouse keepers? Olympic swimmers with hot bods? Write a >1K word fic exploring the possibilities!” 
> 
> left incomplete in case i decide to add more someday. i have a dumbass amount of lore and story that didn’t get told, and i’m already over the word count. 
> 
> special thanks to adri and elen who beta’d at the last minute. title from [hozier](%E2%80%9C), because i’m gay and bad at titles.

The sun shimmered low over the water, light bleeding orange into the sea. It was nearly dark, and Ryan should have been packing up and leaving, like most of the other beachgoers were. But he really didn’t want to drive back to his apartment, knowing that he had to get up early tomorrow and go back into work. The here and now, in the comfortable warmth, in the golden quiet, this was what he really wanted. 

And then he heard something. Beyond all the restless noise of the emptying beach was a soft murmur of song. Ryan sat up sharply on his towel, scanning the coast. As the crowds filtered away to nothing, one man remained. He was wading along the waterline, no more than ankle deep, humming to himself. The haunting tune arced up high, then dipped low and mournful. Ryan watched him walk. He was a pale and gangly kind of guy, with a strange grace and poise. He looked like he’d been swimming in his clothes: a nearly translucent white button down and khaki chinos stuck to his body. 

The man raised his hand in a wave, a beckoning motion. The sun had finally dipped below the horizon. Ryan shivered, and decided he might be warmer if he was up and moving. He left his flip flops behind, padding over the soft sands to join the stranger in the water. 

He was ridiculously tall. Ryan was a little taken aback by it — the man hadn’t seemed that tall from the shore. But he was smiling, a genuine upturn of his closed lips. His brown eyes were warm, with a liquid softness to them, crinkled through a damp fluff of brown hair. Somehow they fell into step beside each other, the only sound the gentle breaking of waves into foam around their bare feet. 

“I could hear you singing,” Ryan blurted after a moment. “You have a really good voice.” 

The smile stretched wider. “Thank you.” Even his speaking voice was nice, a mellow tone that seemed to suit him. “It’s an old song my grandmother used to sing.” 

“It’s beautiful,” he replied, fighting the urge to duck his head. He didn’t want to look away. “I’m Ryan.” 

“Shane.” He hummed quietly, just a few bars of the song, and Ryan was transfixed. He stared up at the stars, watching Venus emerge from the surrounding darkness. “Have you ever been night swimming?” Shane asked, breaking Ryan’s reverie. 

He glanced over, feeling the cool water slosh around his knees in contrast to the warmth in his gut. “Maybe once, at camp?” 

Shane grabbed a hold of his arm, tugged him gently. “Come on. It’s too warm a night to waste.”

Ryan allowed Shane to pull him deeper, up to his waist, nearly giggling. “The beach is closed,” he protested without meaning it. 

“You’re still here,” Shane pointed out. “I’m still here. No one’s here to tell us no.” He was walking the both of them farther into the surf. His fingers were cold on Ryan’s arm. 

“I left my stuff back there,” Ryan remembered, the anxiety pulling him to turn and look. He squinted, but he couldn’t see anything from here, not without his glasses. “They won’t take my stuff, right?” 

Shane chuckled. “No, Ryan. They won’t take your stuff.” His voice sounded just a little strained around the edges. “Come on. Come with me.” 

Ryan turned to look at Shane, confused by his tone. His expression was smooth and guileless, but his eyes were hard. “Shane? What’s wrong?” He gasped as his nails suddenly bit into his arm. He tried to jerk away, but yelped as he only succeeded in giving himself scratches all the way up his forearm. The sight of blood welling to the surface drove out all thought. 

Claws. Shane had claws. 

“I don’t want to go,” Ryan gasped out, trying to plant his heels in the shifting sand. “I don’t want to go with you!” 

Just as suddenly as he’d been yanked, he was let go. So quickly that he lost his balance and nearly fell over. He scrambled to his feet, splashing out of the water and back onto the shore. He ran all the way up to the dry sand, before he spun around to see if he was being followed. 

Shane was staring back from the same place he’d left him, expression unreadable. He was unbearably pale in the moonlight. His hair was dark and matted, and his eyes seemed almost sunken. How had Ryan not seen it before?! 

He panted, mind racing, heart thumping so loudly in his ears. Why wasn’t Shane giving chase? Any moment now, he’d become some kind of horrible monster and drag Ryan away forever. 

“Please,” Shane whispered, and somehow it carried over the soft breeze and the delicate brush of waves over the land. “I’m so lonely.” 

Ryan felt a rush of righteous fury roll through him. He straightened to his full height. “Yeah? Maybe you should _ask_ before dragging people in to drown with you!” He felt about as stunned as Shane looked. He managed to stand his ground until the strange man — the monster, the _ghost?!_ — took a step forward. 

Ryan lost his nerve and made a break for it. 

•∿∿∿∿•

It was only two weeks later when Ryan returned to the beach, armed with nothing but stupidity and courage. 

Shane was waiting for him, like Ryan knew he would be. He was exactly how he remembered, standing ankle-deep in the water, soaked to the skin and so, so pale, even under the pink sunset and lavender sky. His face was pinched and sour as Ryan approached, standing several feet away. 

“I know you can’t leave the water,” Ryan said, and eased himself down on the sand. The significance of the motion didn’t escape him, especially as he had to tip his head up to meet Shane’s gaze, his throat nearly bared. “I know you can’t touch me from here.” 

Shane stared at him for a long moment, before slowly settling in the shallows with his hands folded over his knees. “So you know what I am.” 

“Hard not to when you scratched the fuck out of me, dude,” Ryan replied, before biting his lip. “You’re a _rusalka_. A ghost that drowns people.” 

Shane nodded slowly. “So why did you come back?” 

Ryan took a deep breath. “Because you’re lonely,” he said honestly. 

For a moment, there was nothing but the crash of the surf. Then, Shane’s face split in a wide grin. His mouth was full of glinting, razor-sharp teeth. “Not anymore.” 

The last ray of sun winked out.


End file.
